


Play Themselves Out

by dominobl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Human!Castiel - Freeform, M/M, busker!Castiel, non supernatural au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-14 13:29:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dominobl/pseuds/dominobl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A summer love story where Dean is drawn to the cute dark haired busker he sees strumming away on his guitar every lunch time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Argh I've never written fic before but this idea came to me, inspired very loosely by the love story in the musical 'Once' - will hopefully be completed by the end of the month at the very very latest (I'm thinking four or five chapters, most likely longer ones than this) :)  
> Sorry in advance for any typos, I'll try and fix them before the next update and thank you for reading! :)

Castiel smiled up at the blonde girl who had just deposited several coins into the hat he had placed at his side. The sun was shining down on the city and, as such, he was making much more than he would on your average day. Today was a good day. Castiel loved busking, he hadn’t been doing it for very long yet, about six months, but, apart from the occasional drunk who seemed to all think that he’d be the best guy to pick a fight with since ever; he loved bringing music to people on such a basic level.

It was a sunny day and he’d tried to choose the songs he was singing with that in mind. At the moment he was making his way through a slowed down more acoustic version of Buck Rogers by Feeder. Not because he had any distaste for the original sound, but because the humble guitar he owned and played on couldn’t manage much more.

He’d sing this then three or four more and then he’d have to go to work. Castiel worked in the city library, managing the box office for the small theatre that they had set up in there. It was an easy enough job that meant Castiel could busk in the day and had the chance interact with the public as he worked. But Castiel’s favourite part of his job was that if he was lucky and they hadn’t completely sold out, that he could get free entry in to some of the plays that were on. At the moment it was Hamlet; it had been playing for a week now but it had been so busy that Castiel hadn’t got to see it, yet. He was hoping he might see it later and that this good day might get even better, the sunny weather putting people off an impulsive trip to the theatre.

It was as he was strumming out the opening of Radiohead’s No Surprises that he saw him again – the fair haired guy that was always there with a coffee and take away food. Castiel supposed that he hadn’t realised he could see him watching him, but he could.

Castiel smiled as he made eye contact for the first time, and the other man sharply looked away. Huh, so he didn’t want Castiel to know that he was watching him? Castiel couldn’t resist a few more glances over, which was when he saw the blonde haired girl who’d left him some change go over to the guy, smiling and laughing.

He couldn’t be certain, as they weren’t close enough for him to tell properly, but he was sure she was making the guy blush. He watched as she swung her arm through his, taking no notice of his vehement protests, and started walking with him.

Castiel tried not to let his heart sink at the realisation that the cute fair haired guy he’d been so certain was checking him out all the time had a girlfriend. He tried to reassure himself with the fact that if the guy was watching him for some sinister reason, an idea that Castiel had entertained jokily the first couple of times he’d seen him watching him, at least he would be less likely to try and kill him, now.

If his heart was sinking when he realised the guy wasn’t single, his heart full on dropped when he realised the girl was dragging him over to Castiel. He had no idea what he expected her to say or do when she arrived at him with the other guy but Castiel’s head was a mess of thoughts relating to pretty men and their blonde girlfriends.

They waited a few feet from him whilst he sang the last few lines of the song “No alarms and no surprises, please,” Castiel crooned, strumming out the last few notes on his guitar and then looking up at the two of them, hoping in some crazy way that they might take heed of the lyrics he’d just sang.

The girl bounced over to him, he couldn’t help but noticing how her fingers laced into the guy’s as she dragged him along with her. Swallowing, Castiel said hello.

“Hey, I’m Jo,” she started, smiling down at him before looking over to the guy “and this is Dean!” she continued.

“Uh, hi,” Dean said glancing up from his awkward position beside Jo so that he could meet Castiel’s eyes. Jo rolled her eyes at Dean for Castiel’s benefit, her smile unwavering, which confused Castiel a little; mainly because she seemed amused by the whole affair.

“I’m Castiel,” he told them, receiving a sharp nod from Dean and a smile from Jo as he did so.

“Cute name,” Jo told him, smiling over at Dean, as though seeking his agreement. “Dean,” she continued, still smiling at the man before turning back to Castiel, “thinks you have some crazy music skills,” Castiel couldn’t see Dean’s face at this point but he was certain he saw the top of his ears turning a vivid shade of crimson. Jo carried on “and he’d like to pay you, if you have demo CD or something,” she concluded, still smiling brightly.

“Well,” Castiel said, buying time because he really did have to go to work but he didn’t want to throw away this opportunity. Also, he did have a demo CD he’d be more than willing to let the guy have for free, if he wanted it so badly, but he didn’t have enough time to go and pick it up. “As it happens, I do have a CD, if you’d like one,”

Dean looked up on those words. “You do?” he said eagerly, then seemed to retreat back into himself once he realised perhaps he’d been a little keen. “I mean, uh, cool man, like Jo said, I can pay you,”

It was at that point that Jo’s mobile rang and she looked down at Castiel apologetically and murmured something about how she had to take this one, before taking a few steps to her side and picking up the call. Castiel glanced at his watch and realised he really should be off, too, so set about packing his things up; carefully putting his guitar back in its case and collecting the money he’d earned. Jo bounced back to them.

“Dean, I gotta go, my mother’s having a breakdown over accounting shit, she needs me” she explained, “I’ll see you tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Sure,” Castiel heard Dean reply “seeya tomorrow, Jo,”

Castiel tried not to feel happy when he noticed there was no hug or kiss involved in their goodbye, just smiles and nodding of heads. Maybe the two of them weren’t romantically involved, after all.

“It was nice meeting you Castiel,” Jo said, smiling, before she turned on her heel and headed the other way, leaving no room for Castiel to say a proper good bye to her.

Castiel collected his things as he stood up before turning to Dean, who had been standing awkwardly to the side as he did so.

“Would you like to walk with me and we can arrange getting you a CD?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, ok” Dean replied “Which way are you going?”

“Towards the library,”

The two men set off towards the library, they exchanged phone numbers so that Dean could give Castiel a ring when he was free and come and pick up the promised CD that he was adamant he was going to pay for.

“You really don’t have to pay me,” Castiel had said, struggling to hide the hint of amusement in his voice when he looked over to see the horrified expression that had overcome Dean’s face at the prospect. “Honestly,” Castiel continued, smiling steadily now “it’s no loss to me, at all,”

“I’m paying you for it, ok,”

“Of course,” Castiel relented “if you wish,”

“I do wish,”

The two men walked in silence for a few minutes, but not an awkward one. It occurred to Castiel, as he steeled a glance over at Dean, who was even more handsome close up, that Dean really didn’t need to be with him any longer, he was walking with him now because he wanted to walk with him.

“What do you do at the library?” Dean enquired.

“I work at the box office for the theatre,” Castiel told him.

“Huh, that’s cool,” was Dean’s short answer.

“I think so, sometimes I can get in and watch the productions for free,” Castiel confessed.

Dean looked over him, smiling a twinkly-eyed smile that made Castiel’s head spin a little “That’s awesome man, seen anything good?”

“A Taste of Honey was a favourite and the production of Macbeth we put on last year was very good,”

“Ah,” Dean said “I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other,”

Castiel almost stopped dead in his tracks “Dean, did you just quote Macbeth?”

Dean chuckled and Castiel couldn’t help but notice how lovely his green eyes were when he smiled, from the dashes of light that caught in his iris to the crinkled skin to the side of each eye.

“You’re looking at Macbeth himself from the original Lawrence High School production,” Dean grinned.

“You act?” Castiel asked, as he tried to compose himself at the same time as stopping himself from kissing Dean’s wonderful smiling mouth that had just quoted Shakespeare to him.

“I dabbled in high school,” Dean answered, his smile now lapsed into a playful smirk.

“We’re actually showing Hamlet at the moment,” Castiel said, hoping his façade of nonchalance was working on Dean “I mean, if you wanted to see it, I might be able to get in tonight, too, and I might be able to give you staff discount?”

Dean seemed to be considering the offer, not replying straight away and Castiel found himself qualifying the statement “You don’t have to, I know it’s a nice day and you probably have plans and… stuff,”

“No,” Dean stopped him, “I’d love to, actually, I haven’t been to the theatre in a long time, I’m pretty sure I used to like it,” he confessed, with an easy laugh that gave Castiel nervous butterflies.

Castiel resisted the urge to reply with ‘it’s a date’ and instead reassured Dean that the Library Theatre was one of the best in the city.

~

Earlier, when she’d dragged him over to the hot busker he’d been admiring for weeks, Dean had been ready to kill Jo. But now, sat with said hot busker, Castiel, in the theatre of all places, he could just as easily kiss her.

Dean wasn’t sure exactly how she’d got it out of him that he liked the busker dude. It wasn’t like he’d admitted it to himself, properly, he just somehow found his way back to the square where he knew he’d be singing and playing his guitar every lunch time. It wasn’t a conscious thing at all, which Dean supposed was probably a bad sign for his playboy reputation.

But now the whole thing was so surreal. The Library Theatre, where he found himself and where it turned out the guy worked, was a really nice little place. The stage was only small, and would be overshadowed by the large red drapes that hung either side whilst the play was acted out were it not for the bright lights shining down on the actors. And the play was really not that bad. Generally, Dean didn’t have time for pomposity, and he couldn’t think of anything worse than a Shakespearean tragedy for gathering snobs. But it wasn’t like this here; the theatre was cool and comfortable, a welcome change from the heat outside, and the people it attracted were easy going and chilled, not the arty type that Dean was so wary of. And sure, Dean didn’t understand exactly every line of what was going on, but it was acted well enough that he could keep up with the plot.

The handsome guy sat next to him who’d got them in may also have had something to do with how much Dean was enjoying the night, loathed to admit it though he might be. He couldn’t help but sneak glances at him every now and then, loving how intently he gazed at the actors, how his brow furrowed when something troubling and profound was being said and how his mouth blossomed into small theatre-appropriate smiles when something funny happened.

As lovely as this all was though, there was something nagging in the back of Dean’s head. Namely, he was straight. Or at least, that’s what he’d told himself all twenty four years of his life. Dean liked girls and only girls. He’d fooled around with guys before, sure, but this thing whatever it was with Castiel was edging closer and closer to something more than fooling around. They hadn’t done anything, but Dean knew that if Castiel was a chick, he’d be counting this as a date.

Jo had laughed at him when he’d told her this as she pulled him towards Castiel earlier in the day, telling him he could be whatever he wanted, but he should definitely work his big fat crush out sooner rather than later. Dean had winced at her use of the word ‘crush’, accurate though it may be, he couldn’t help the panic it evoked when it was used to describe his feelings towards another dude.

Every time Dean got too caught up in his feelings of anxiety and thought he could maybe sneak out now, somehow, feign a toilet break perhaps, he’d look over to Castiel and he knew he wasn’t going anywhere. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, maybe the memory of Castiel’s perfect gravelly voice that had first captured his attention when busking, or maybe the proud smile after he’d snuck Dean in through the side door so that he didn’t have to pay, but something about Castiel had Dean hooked. Try as he may to tell himself he was straight and there was nothing romantic about this and he should be getting out of here right now just to make sure of this, he knew he wasn’t going to.

Castiel’s hand was on the arm rest, mere centimetres from Dean’s. He could reach out and touch it, hold it, if he wanted to. He wasn’t sure if Castiel would let him but hell; he’d invited him along, hadn’t he? He would probably let him. He was pretty sure this play only had five acts and the fifth one had just started, if he was gonna ever do it, he had to do it now. Dean extended his hand out to the end of his knee and then buckled, leaving it kind of floating in mid-air over his kneecap. Dean’s heart was in his chest, he wanted to hold Castiel’s hand, maybe even just give it a quick squeeze, a thank you for the free theatre trip, but he was too pussy to just finish the job and close the distance.

It was as Dean was about to chicken out completely, that Castiel reached out and took Dean’s hand in his own, squeezing it firmly. Dean looked over to Castiel, hoping to God that the shock he was feeling hadn’t registered in his eyes, however Castiel’s amused smile made him think that it might have.

Dean had half a mind to pull his hand right away from Castiel’s if he was going to be laughed at, but then the other man’s expression changed, his smile softer as he held Dean’s gaze. Steeling himself, Dean felt his own hand squeeze Castiel’s right back, before the other man intertwined his fingers with Dean’s and let their hands settle on top of one another back on the arm rest.

He pretty much missed the entire final act of the play, which was an unexpected mix of death and more death. All he could think was thank fuck it was so dark in here and the stage was so bright so no one could see that they were holding hands, because there wasn’t a chance he was letting go of Castiel any time soon.


	2. Chapter 2

The night air was quiet and cool as Castiel and Dean left the theatre. Castiel had left his assistant manager, Hester, to close up the theatre on the promise he’d do it one day next week. The sun hadn’t quite set but the heat of the day was losing its intensity all the same. It was quieter than it had been when they went in – the library was in the business district of town and past 6pm, there was very little going on. One of Castiel’s favourite times was summertime when the city was still, and his library post-play was a perfect example of it.

Castiel had no idea what they were going to do now. It wasn’t that late, but for all he knew, Dean may have somewhere else to be. On the other hand, the CD he’d promised Dean would be a convenient reason to invite Dean back to his place.

“What did you think?” Castiel asked, looking over to Dean, who was staring seemingly absent mindedly at a spot on the horizon. “Dean?”

Dean turned to face Castiel “Sorry,” he smiled, “I was miles away, what did you say, Castiel?”

“What did you think of the play, Dean?”

“It was good man, I think the whole thing could have been worked out way more easily if Hamlet hadn’t spent the whole play talking about what he might do,”

Castiel smiled “But then there would be no tragedy,”

Dean seemed to consider this “I don’t know, I think maybe the world already has enough tragedy,”

And Dean looked so forlorn that Castiel wanted to reach out and hug him, but he knew there wasn’t a chance that would be inappropriate. They’d met properly mere hours ago and, even though Dean had held his hand back in the theatre, Castiel knew hugging in public would probably be an entirely different matter.

Instead Castiel opted to place what he hoped was a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean didn’t shake him off immediately, but looked up at him; raising one eyebrow in a way that Castiel couldn’t be sure was inquisitive or challenging.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” Castiel asked.

“Where?”

“We could go and get food, or we could go to my place, if you still want that CD, I’m regularly complimented on my culinary skills,”

Dean looked up at Castiel, and this time the sadness was almost gone and Castiel definitely recognised amusement in his eyes.

“Did I say something funny?”

“Nah, I guess I just don’t usually hear people being so humble about their ‘culinary skills’” Dean said, smiling at Castiel.

“I wasn’t being humble,” Castiel half mumbled, unsure as to why exactly Dean seemed so amused, but Dean just laughed at him. When other people laughed at him, Castiel usually felt judged in some way, but that harshness wasn’t there when Dean laughed at him, if Castiel knew him better, he’d probably say the laughter was fond, infact.

“You should definitely show me your culinary skills, Cas,” Den said, still smiling his fond smile “but not tonight,”

“Oh, ok,” Castiel said, trying meekly to hide his disappointment that this was probably good bye for the time being.

“Because tonight,” Dean continued “I’m gonna buy you coffee from the best joint in town,” Castiel raised an eyebrow at the bold statement, but Dean’s smile was infectious and he found his lips rose into a small one of his own. “Come on,” Dean said, flicking his head slightly to the right and motioning for Castiel to join him.

Castiel had absolutely no idea what he was doing, following Dean who was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger, to a coffee shop he didn’t recognise in a part of town he didn’t know very well. But the part of him that was cautious was being completely overridden by the part of him that was intrigued to find out more about the fair haired man who liked his music so much he was willing to pay for it and who rolled Macbeth quotes off his tongue so naturally.

Dean had turned and smiled to him as they found themselves in the door way to the café. “My Uncle Bobby owns this place, hands down best coffee you’ll find in a twenty mile radius,”

“That’s quite a claim, Dean” Castiel said, raising one eyebrow at the other man as he did so.

Dean shrugged “it’s true,” he said with a wink, as he held the door open for Castiel to go inside.

Once inside, Dean escorted him to a booth table in the corner, where he sat opposite Castiel; not looking at him but instead fumbling with a napkin as they waited for someone to come and ask what they’d like to order.

It wasn’t long before a gruff looking man came over to ask what they’d like. He didn’t have a name badge, but wore a blue apron around his waist, the only clue to Castiel that he did actually work here. Dean smiled up at the man as he approached.

“Hey Bobby,” he’d said, confirming Castiel’s suspicious that the man did work here, he must be the Uncle Bobby that Dean had mentioned.

“Hey kid,” the man said, before turning to Castiel expectantly.

“Hello,” Castiel began, before Dean interjected.

“Bobby, this is Castiel,” Dean said, taking care to pronounce Castiel’s name properly. “He makes music, he’s gonna sell me some tapes and shit,” Dean said, beaming proudly on Castiel’s behalf.

“Music, huh?” Bobby inquired. “You don’t look like the type that makes the kinda music our Dean listens to,” he said, looking from Castiel to Dean curiously. Castiel had no idea what kind of music Bobby could possibly be referring to, he was about to make a comment about how he tried to listen to and play as varied amount of music as possible and didn’t really restrict himself to one genre. But before he could, Dean spoke.

“God, old man, never had you down for a music critic,” Dean said. His tone was half joking and half irked, which Castiel thought was odd, given Bobby hadn’t said anything wrong, had he? Bobby studied Dean carefully, considering his response Castiel supposed, before obviously deciding to change track.

“What can I get you?” he said, looking at Castiel.

“Burger,” Castiel said, a safe guess and the first thing that came to his mind when asked such a direct question so unexpectedly. He looked over to Dean to see he was smiling at him. “Uh, with cheese and fries, if that’s possible,” Castiel finished.

“Same please, Bobby,” Dean said, before asking for two Americanos, promising Castiel he would pay, so long as Castiel was willing to critique the coffee for him.

Bobby grunted and told them he’d be back with their drinks soon, before he turned and walked away. Castiel was still confused about why Dean had got so defensive when Bobby had questioned the music he made, and before he could stop himself, he found he was asking Dean what his music taste usually comprised of.

Dean looked up at him awkwardly.

“Does it matter, Cas?” he asked his head tilting to the side as he did so, his lips slightly parted, and his eyes staring straight into Castiel’s. Castiel wanted to tell him no, no it didn’t matter, as long as he carried on with looking at him so beautifully, and buying him unnecessary coffees. But even Castiel knew that would be ridiculous.

“I’m interested Dean, I am a musician after all,” he said, feeling the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile as he did so. “It matters to me,”

Dean’s eyes actually widened when he said that, and Castiel thought that perhaps he had gone too far with double meanings, given he barely knew him. Dean swallowed before he responded.

“Hard rock’s kinda my thing,” he admitted, almost shyly, which made Castiel smile.

“Then why do you like my music?” he asked, resisting the temptation to reach out and touch Dean’s hand that was still resting absent mindedly on the napkin he’d been fidgeting with moments before.

Dean shrugged and began talking, but resumed playing with the napkin in favour of eye contact with Castiel.

“When I first heard you playing, you were singing Back in Black,” he started “uh, by AC DC,” he continued, looking up to Castiel briefly for some sort of affirmation. Castiel nodded. “I guess that’s what caught my attention, but your singing voice is just so god damn _pretty_ ,” he said, before looking up at Castiel, horrified, presumably at having let such a feminine word slip out.

“I mean,” Dean spluttered, “I don’t know, you just sing really well, ok?”

Castiel smiled, he knew Dean was struggling with this and that he should be kind, but the way the other man’s ears had inflamed red again, as he was embarrassed was nothing short of completely adorable. No one had ever told Castiel that his singing voice was pretty before, either, not that he’d exactly had many compliments on it.

“Thank you,” he said, simply, before being interrupted by a waitress who came over with their coffees, depositing the two cups as well as a small jug of milk and a bowl of sugar.

Castiel glanced over at Dean as they thanked the waitress. Dean was smiling easily at her and the flirty way she caught his eye made Castiel think that perhaps they had some sort of history. He didn’t say anything about it, though, and when Dean turned back to him, he seemed to have recovered from his embarrassment over the compliment he’d paid Castiel.

“Ok, so,” he said, “I think it’s better without milk but my pussy brother always insists on white coffee, so it’s up to you,” he looked at Castiel, smiling as he placed one cup in front of him. “And I have a shit ton of sugar so you can have some if there’s any left,” he finished; grinning as he picked up the bowl of sugar he’d been provided with and began spooning some into his own coffee.

Castiel didn’t say anything, but poured a small splash of milk into his coffee before he stirred it, all the time Dean was looking at him expectantly and patiently. He took a sip, delighting in how Dean’s gaze fixed on his lips for far longer than necessary as he did so. The coffee was hot so he didn’t have much of a chance to really taste it, but he knew from the way Dean was eagerly looking at him that he expected some kind of review.

“It was alright,” Castiel said, finally.

“Alright?!” Dean gasped, clutching a hand to his chest in mock horror as he did so.

“Well, I suppose it was one of the better coffee’s I’ve ever tasted,” Castiel relented, unable to stop himself from carefully teasing Dean, as a second sip had confirmed that the coffee really was exceptionally good.

“I’d question your taste,” Dean said, “except you’re sat here with me so I guess it mustn’t be that bad,” he looked at Castiel, grinning and Castiel smiled. He was surprised, Dean had been giving him signals that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with being out with another guy in a romantic way, but that was definitely flirting.

Castiel didn’t respond, instead he picked up his coffee mug with both hands and idly sipped on it, considering where exactly whole bizarre encounter was going.

**~**

Dean’s main thought when Castiel hadn’t responded to his shameless flirting was ‘fuuuuuck’. Maybe Dean had read this all wrong and Castiel wasn’t interested in him in that way. But no, he’d held his hand in the theatre for fuck’s sake; of course he was interested in him. Maybe he was just really crap at flirting, that was probably it, as pretty and articulate as he was, the guy didn’t exactly strike Dean as the playful type.

He was sure Castiel was smiling at him from behind the coffee mug, but now he daren’t look at him for too long, just in case he wasn’t interested and Dean was making a fool of himself with his curious interest in the way Castiel’s bottom lip was lazing at the edge of the cup.

“Are you straight?” he suddenly heard, completely out of nowhere. Dean froze and he looked up to Castiel in shock, before glancing around to make sure no one else had heard the question. Thankfully, business was quiet – the nice weather had drawn everyone outside, and the only other patrons were sat quietly where they couldn’t hear Dean and Castiel's conversation.

“Why would you say that?” Dean asked, immediately regretting the harshness laced in his voice when he saw Castiel’s face harden. Castiel didn’t respond immediately, but instead studied him, Dean could feel his face flush ever so slightly as he did so, but he didn’t back down, he met Castiel’s gaze, dude had no right asking such direct questions and Dean wasn’t going to just take that. Eventually, Castiel’s eyes softened and when he spoke, he spoke in earnest.

“I like you,” Castiel said, causing butterflies in Dean’s stomach that, try as he may, he just couldn’t ignore “and I’d like to get to know you better. But I have to be sure about what I might be getting involved with, Dean, you must understand that?”

Dean sighed. Of course this was coming; things could never be simple enough that his gorgeous busker would just accept Dean’s flirting and romantic inclinations without questions and needing answers that Dean wasn’t entirely sure of himself.

He liked Castiel, and though he’d tried to convince himself otherwise, when he’d found himself returning to the same square in town day after day just so that he might hear Castiel sing, he knew he was interested in something other than just friendship with him. He remembered the way his heart had leapt when Castiel had taken his hand in the theatre, how lovely his gentle touch had been. Even now, when he felt under threat, looking over at Castiel’s eyes that were suddenly startlingly blue, he knew there was an affection there that he probably wouldn’t be able to feel if he was exclusively attracted to girls.

Dean was not ready to label this, to have a sexuality talk or whatever else you might wanna call it. But he was equally not ready to let this fleeting thing that was going on with Castiel slip away from him so quickly, and he knew he had to make sure Castiel knew that he really was interested in him romantically.

“I like girls,” Dean said, then mentally cursed himself for starting out with the opposite of what he supposed Castiel wanted to hear. “But I like you, too, ok?” he breathed in deeply before he went on, searching Castiel’s face for some sort of confirmation that he was saying the right thing, but receiving none.

He considered telling Castiel more in depth stuff, how his father had recently died, and with his passing, how Dean had hated himself for feeling liberated, like he might finally start to live his life for himself without feeling an uncomfortable debt to his family. He thought about telling him how losing both his parents so relatively young had made Dean think that he shouldn’t pass up chances of happiness. But he didn’t.

Instead, Dean sucked in a great big breath and reached out for Castiel’s hand, which he took delicately in both of his.

“I like you, Castiel,” he said, looking intently at those blue eyes that were currently so void of tangible emotion. “And I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this way around another guy before,” he paused, remembering Aaron from high school and the utter head fuck that had taken place when Dean had almost kissed him at a party. “Ok, maybe I have, I don’t know, but I’ve never done anything about it before, Cas,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt as he stared pleadingly into Castiel’s eyes. “But I think, no, I _know_ that I’d like to, with you, if you’ll let me,” he finished, looking meekly up at the other man and hoping beyond hope that Castiel wouldn’t write him off as a closeted loser.

Dean would have sworn he could literally feel his heart pounding in his chest in the moments before Castiel responded but finally he did. He smiled at Dean, and placed his free hand on top of the cluster of their hands that had now formed on the table.

“I understand,” he said, and his smile was reflected in the way his eyes twinkled at Dean, fresh understanding in them, as he squeezed Dean’s hands reassuringly with his own. “I’d like to see where this might go, too.”

Dean’s heart skipped excitedly at those words, and he couldn’t stop the huge grin of relief that took over his face.

“I'm happy to hear that, Cas,” he said, delighting in the way the other man smiled at his admission, “thank you,” he half spoke, half whispered as he found himself squeezing Castiel’s hands right back.

It was at exactly that moment that their waitress returned. Dean’s immediate reaction was to snatch his hands away from Castiel’s. He knew Bela, Bobby’s waitress, quite well – they’d fooled around a couple of times last year and he liked to keep up gentle flirting with her. In short, she wasn’t Dean’s ideal choice to expose his big gay thing for Castiel to. But equally, he seemed to have just clinched this for Castiel, and he wasn’t sure he was willing to blow it just yet. If it did turn out to be nothing, he didn’t think it would be hard to blow off next time he saw Bela.

So, instead of jerking away like every fibre in his body was screaming for him to do, he squeezed Castiel’s hands again with his own, before gently unwrapping his hands from Castiel’s, letting his fingers brush against the other man’s as he did so. The sensation made Dean’s skin tingle lightly where Castiel’s skin had brushed against his, and he almost forgot that Bela was there. Instead he found himself smiling over at Castiel in a way he knew was probably sickening to observe.

“Your food, _gentlemen_ ,” she said, loudly clearing her throat and smirking at Dean when he looked up at her.

“Thank you,” Castiel said, speaking for them both as they each took their plates and Bela walked away. Dean could feel his face was flushed, yet again, and so took to focusing on his burger, hoping Castiel would do the same.

However, he couldn’t resist looking over to see what Castiel was doing and was slightly startled to see he was smiling over at him fondly.

“I’ve never known someone to be so attractive when they blush,” Castiel commented, in an eerily matter of fact way, before he turned his attention to his own food.

Well shit, if Dean was blushing before, his cheeks were literally on fire, now.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the next day, another bright and sunny one and Castiel found himself once again in the main square in town, playing his guitar and singing songs that reminded him of summer. He couldn’t help smiling to himself, remembering the events from the night before – taking Dean to the theatre, teasing him about Bobby’s coffee, Dean’s confession that he liked him and wanted to see where this could go.

Castiel knew he should probably feel weird that a guy who regularly came to watch him play but never spoke to him now had such a sudden interest in him. He knew he should be more wary, should be trying to move things along slowly, take time to get to know Dean better. Castiel wasn’t old, he was approaching twenty six, but he hadn’t had a proper relationship with anyone, male or female, for over a year now, and something was telling him that he could have something really good with Dean. Castiel knew that right now, if Dean wanted to see him, Castiel would be there.

He searched the square absent mindedly, people watching. Dean wasn’t there yet, or if he was, he’d found a way to be more inconspicuous. Castiel smiled to himself, remembering their awkward good bye outside Dean’s apartment, which he’d walked him back to, it not being far from Bobby’s.

He’d made Dean promise to text or ring so they could work out a time for Castiel to give Dean his CD of songs, and then there’d been an awfully awkward silence. Eventually, Dean had inclined his head ever so slightly, and gently kissed Castiel on the cheek.

Castiel had turned to look at him as he moved away, and somehow their gaze had locked onto each other and before he quite knew what was happening, he had closed the short distance between their mouths and was carefully kissing Dean. It took a few seconds but eventually, he felt Dean kissing him back.

It hadn’t been sexual, it was a slow, exploratory kiss; Dean was tentative and Castiel was aware that he was going to pull away any second. He had lightly placed his hands on Dean’s face, to steady the other man more than anything and Dean had let out a small appreciative noise when he did so. Castiel kissed him delicately and, awkward as their position was, looking back, he counted it as one of the better first kisses he’d ever had.

Better still was the hazy look in Dean’s eyes when he finally did pull away, far later than Castiel had expected him to. It looked like it had been an effort for Dean to drag his gaze away from Castiel’s lips to his eyes, but when he did, he smiled lazily at him.

“I had a nice night, Cas, thanks for that,” Dean had said.

“My pleasure,” was Castiel’s short response, before he pecked Dean quickly on the lips and Dean headed up to his apartment.

The songs he’d chosen to sing today were overly romantic and sentimental and although Castiel kind of hated himself for it, he was too happy with Dean and the night before to mind too badly. He’d made his way through what could probably be a decent Valentine’s compilation of songs and now he was singing Elton John’s ‘Your Song’.

It was approaching two o’clock according to the clock tower at the north east corner of the square and it was then that Castiel spied Dean, sat with a subway lunch and a coffee on the wall by the clock tower. He wasn’t looking at Castiel but instead appeared to be texting something into his phone.

Castiel couldn’t help glancing down between songs at his phone to see if he had any messages from Dean. He equally couldn’t help the small smile that had crept on to his face when he saw that he did. Looking over at Dean, Castiel saw that he was watching him intently, but he smiled and his face flushed a little when Castiel looked at him.

Dean’s text read:

_Hi cas, couple of friends are meeting up tonight 4 drinks – u should come x_

Castiel considered this for a second. Tonight _was_ his night off, and if he was going to go out with Dean any night, a Friday like today would be preferable. Should he be seeing a guy he’d only just met two nights in a row? He wasn’t sure. However, he was sure that he did want to go out with Dean, and heart racing, he replied.

_Ok, when and where? x_

He looked up to see Dean grinning as he texted him back, then looked back to his phone as it vibrated to tell him he had a new message.

_8pm @ the roadhouse, nr werburgh street – u know it? x_

Castiel did know it, as it happened, he’d been to the Roadhouse a couple of times with friends, it was a nice bar, and he usually liked the kind of people that it attracted. He texted back to tell Dean that he’d be there and then picked up his guitar, launching himself into a rendition of Crowded House’ ‘It’s Only Natural’.

**~**

“So Deano,” Ash had said as he picked up his beer from the bar. “Still not gonna tell us who the lucky lady you’ve invited along is?”

Dean had exchanged a furtive glance with Jo at that – mainly because the ‘lucky lady’ Ash was talking about was, he was quite sure, a guy. Jo knew he was bringing Castiel; she could barely wipe the knowing grin off her face when Dean had asked her if she’d be alright with him bringing someone.

Dean didn’t say anything; lightly supping his beer in what he hoped was a mysterious way. He hoped Jo would do something when Castiel actually arrived so that the revelation he was maybe dating a guy wouldn’t cause any awkward moments with Ash.

As it happened, he didn’t have to wait long before discovering that that was exactly what Jo was going to do. Castiel walked in pretty much dead on 8pm, which made Dean smile, and as he did so, Jo had lightly touched Ash’s arm and asked him to go help her with stock in the back.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel had said as he approached.

Dean smiled and hoped he didn’t look too goofy as he said hey to the man. Suddenly Dean found he was flustered. He realised he had absolutely no idea what the standard etiquette was for greeting a guy you’d been out with once and had kissed when you were still not so sure you even liked guys but were even more certain that you didn’t want people to know you might like guys yet.

Luckily, Castiel sat himself down at the bar next to Dean before Dean could do too much worrying and seemed content with a nod and a smile for greeting. The irony wasn’t lost on Dean when he thought that he could have kissed Castiel for being so relaxed about the whole thing.

Dean bought Castiel a beer and it wasn’t long before Jo and Ash were back. Dean pointedly ignored Ash’s smirk when Jo introduced Castiel to him, and just hoped Castiel hadn’t noticed. Castiel was surprised to hear that Jo and her mom, Ellen, owned the bar, telling them he’d been here a few times and always liked it, which Dean knew would earn brownie points with Jo.

The evening was going by really well, he hadn’t expected it, but Castiel just about managed to drink even Jo under the floor. Jo and Ash’s giddy drunken affection for Castiel gave Dean warm feelings in his chest that he daren’t even think about defining, just happy they were there.

Dean himself was the most sober of the foursome, having declined to join in with their drinking games ‘cause he needed to drive to work in the morning, something which earned him ridicule but that no one argued with too strongly. However it meant that when he repeatedly caught himself checking Castiel out, he didn’t have the excuse that it was just because he was drunk. He consoled himself that at least everyone he was with was a bit too far gone to care.

Also, Dean figured, it was not his fault that he found himself checking Castiel out so bad – the guy was just so goddamn _attractive_. Dean genuinely had to steel himself whenever he made Castiel smile, the way the light reflected in his eyes and his mouth crookedly fixed in an upwards position sent happy flutters dancing along Dean’s chest. Jesus, this whole thing was so gay and, even more alarmingly, Dean felt himself caring less and less as the night dragged on.

The two of them were now sat locked in a fierce debate over whether or not Ke$ha’s music would one day be held with the same regard as the Beatles, Dean arguing it wouldn’t, duh.  And _if_ he was losing, it was because of how conscious he was that their heads were slightly closer than necessary to hear each other. Dean had caught sight of Jo’s wicked glance at the two of them before she’d loudly cleared her throat, earning a downright suspicious look from him.

“Dean Winchester,” Jo said; her gaze a terrifying mix of challenging and amused and her speech only slightly slurred “I challenge you to a game of pool, doubles. Me and Castiel versus you and Ash,”

Dean was about to refuse, mainly because he didn’t wanna show Castiel how competitive he was so fast, he wasn’t sure the guy would like it, but his friends had other ideas.

“I’m down with that,” Dean heard Ash say as he reached over to the pool table near them and grabbed the nearest cue. “Dean and I will cream you suckers,” he said, grinning.

Dean looked over to Castiel to see him staring up at him, questioningly, Dean realised he was looking for Dean’s permission to agree and well, dammit, he could hardly say no when Castiel _wanted_ to join the stupid game. Besides, maybe if he beat Jo, she’d stop with the knowing smiling and teasing in Dean and Castiel’s direction. Dean plastered a smile on his face and looked again to Castiel.

“Me and Cas are in,” he said, and despite himself, he loved how Castiel’s face lit up at the prospect.

~

Remarkably, Dean had been wrong about Castiel – he was actually really fucking good at playing pool. Castiel and Jo combined were quite the team and though Ash was a little lazy when he played, Dean more than made up for it and before Dean knew it, they’d lost two games and won two games.

“Best of five?” he’d challenged, smiling at Jo and winking at Castiel as he tossed his cue cockily between his hands.

“Whadd’ya think, Cas?” Jo had asked, smiling conspiratorially over at Castiel.

“I think Dean might regret forgoing his draw,” Castiel had said, smiling fondly at Dean in such a way that Dean didn’t care he’d just been told, in a roundabout way, that Castiel thought he was going to lose against them.

“That means we play best of five, right?” Ash asked, laughing as he set about placing all the balls back in the rack.

They played and Dean was on a roll, smoothly sinking several balls before Castiel and Jo even had a chance to play. Anger had furled in a tight knot in Dean when Jo had ‘helped’ Castiel when it was his go by lining her body up with his and placing her hands on his, round his back, so that he could aim right. Jo had grinned straight up at him whilst she was doing it, too, and it was the knowledge that she’d done it entirely to get a reaction that stopped Dean short of saying anything. Castiel, for his part, seemed unfazed by the contact with Jo, which made Dean’s heart skip hopefully. Not that they even had much of a thing going on yet that Castiel would want it to be exclusive, but Jo was pretty, loads of guys would have been affected by that, but Castiel wasn’t.

Instead he’d smiled sheepishly up at Dean when he pocketed the ball Jo had helped him with. When Ash had gone to take his go, Castiel had walked around the table and, ever so quickly, he’d grabbed Dean’s hand and given it a reassuring squeeze, much like the one he had the night before when he’d confessed he’d like to see where this might go. Again, Dean wished he actually had drunk, because at least that would be a reasonable explanation as to why the room was now spinning ever so slightly.

He didn’t think anything of it when he was taking his next shot and saw, from the corner of his eye, Jo leaning over to whisper something in Castiel’s ear. He should have been wary, from the way it looked like Castiel’s eyes had widened before he nodded, accepting whatever she’d said, but Dean didn’t fuck about when he played pool so he was too focused on sinking the next ball, which he swiftly did.

Lining up the next ball, their sixth, Dean was only vaguely conscious of Castiel behind him. He straightened his back and eyed up exactly where he was going to pocket the ball. It would be a tricky move, he ran the risk of pocketing the eighth, which would lose them the game, but Dean knew he could manage it; years of hustling pool meant he could take these kinda risks when he played.

He pulled the cue back, arched his fingers apart just a little more and was about to send the sixth ball straight into the top right pocket when he felt someone pinch him firmly on the ass. His cheeks inflamed red and as he jumped up to shout at whichever prick it was, his cue knocked the eighth ball, sending it straight into a pocket and meaning Dean and Ash lost the game.

Incensed, Dean turned round to give the culprit a piece of his mind, only to see Castiel, looking slightly scared, standing behind him. Dean had absolutely no idea what to make of that, he stood staring, chest heaving, uncomfortably close to the other man for a few seconds before Jo burst out laughing from the other side of the pool table. He turned to her.

“Looks like me and Cas win, Dean,” she said, grinning at him, before shooting Castiel a proud smile.

“Please,” Dean countered “You guys cheated, that does not count,”

“Cheated?” Jo echoed, mock horror in her voice “why I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about Dean Winchester, but I don’t think I like what you’re implying,”

“You know what you _did,_ ” Dean hissed at her. Jo smiled again.

“No, Dean, I don’t, care to enlighten us all?”

Dean loved Jo like she was his own sister. But fuck, sometimes he really hated her and this was one of them. It dawned on him that she’d told Castiel to go and pinch his ass when he’d seen her whispering, knowing full well that it would knock him off his game, but more importantly, safe in the knowledge that Dean would never admit out loud that Castiel had done it or that it had put him off.

She was giving him a choice – recognise what may or may not be going on with him and Castiel out loud, or lose the game of pool. Neither of which were an option for Dean. Exasperated, he threw his cue aside and promptly left the bar, not looking back at either Jo or Castiel and mumbling something about how being so fucking childish wouldn’t get you anywhere.

The cool night air calmed him down almost instantly, and as his feet pounded the pavement, his anger turned in to worry. Worry mainly that Castiel would think he was some closeted loser who couldn’t deal with telling people he liked a guy. Which, hey, maybe he was, but he was kinda hoping Castiel would help him work that out.

He was literally on the edge of turning and walking back to the Roadhouse to apologise to Castiel when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Castiel there, a concerned look on his face.

“Dean, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that, you made it clear you weren’t ready to be so affectionate so publicly. It was unfair of me to put you in that position,” he spoke steadily, but left no room for Dean to interject until he’d finished.

“Cas, I,” Dean had no idea what to say to that, he’d been expecting to do the grovelling here and now Castiel had turned up and was apologising to him. No one ever bothered to apologise to him, the closest he ever got was when he and Sam were still on the road and, after a fight, Sam would come back with pie and Dean would buy take out and they’d watch TV – the apology unspoken but there, still. But no one ever actually _apologised_. Yet here Castiel was, Castiel who barely knew him and who Dean couldn't kiss in public, despite how much he liked him, apologising to him for something that, if Dean was honest, was his fault and not Castiel's.

“Cas, it’s ok,” Dean said, he felt himself sigh and, after a furtive glance to see that no one he knew was nearby, he laid a hand on Castiel’s cheek, cupping his face gently. “I’m sorry, I overreacted and I was a douche. Forgive me?” he asked, pulling out what he considered his most attractive and endearing smile, usually reserved only for times when he didn’t have enough change to put his laundry through and had to appeal to the cute girl who worked there to run the washers for him anyway.

Castiel reached out and took Dean’s hand from his face, holding it in his own. He regarded him for several seconds and for an awful moment, Dean thought he was going to kiss him, here, in public. But he didn’t.

“Come back to my place?” he said, “I can give you that CD, if you still want it?”

Dean knew he shouldn’t go back to the place of someone he only met yesterday. Or did he? He’d been back to so many girls’ apartments that he’d never met before that he’d lost count - what was so different about going back with Castiel? Dean realised, and then immediately wished he hadn’t, that he didn’t want Castiel to simply be another rung on the bedpost, another faceless person he slept with. He wanted him to be more.

With that horrific realisation though, he also thought that as long as he was careful and didn’t freak out about the whole Castiel-being-a-guy thing, there was no reason why they had to take things slow at all.

So Dean had nodded, and squeezed Castiel’s hand with his, before they made their way to Castiel’s apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

“Did you call Jo?” Castiel asked, as he came out from the bathroom of his apartment. They hadn’t been there longer than five minutes, during which time; Cas had apologised and said he really really needed the loo, where he’d spent the last two minutes. Dean thought that was fair enough – he had consumed quite a lot of alcohol, even if it didn’t seem to have any effect on him.

“Not yet,” Dean replied. He had meant to; to tell her everything was ok and he was sorry for storming out like he did, but he figured that she’d be better to talk to after some time had passed – girl could hold a grudge. Also, he’d found himself seriously distracted by Castiel’s music collection whilst he’d been in the bathroom. “I will do, though,” he said, with a reassuring smile at Castiel as he came and sat beside him.

“You got quite a music collection” Dean surmised, gesturing to the CDs stacked neatly on shelves next to him. Castiel smiled.

“Why do I feel as though this is leading up to criticism of my music taste, Dean?”

“Probably ‘cause it is,” Dean said, grinning at the other man. “Seriously though, you have some good shit,” he started, thinking of the Zeppelin albums he’d seen carefully arranged together “but then you go and ruin it with _Lady Gaga_?!” he asked incredulously.

Castiel simply shrugged “I like Lady Gaga;” he smiled “She’s said and done some pretty problematic things, but Bad Romance is a guilty pleasure,”

Dean had no idea what Castiel meant by ‘problematic things’ but he presumed he was talking about her first album.

“I could play you something of hers, if you like?” Castiel offered.

“What, like, play her CD or you actually play it?” Dean questioned.

“I would play it on guitar,”

Dean found himself swallowing, listening to Castiel busk on the street was one thing – a private performance on the other hand was a level of intimacy that Dean wasn’t quite sure he was comfortable with. However, Castiel was already reaching for his guitar and Dean was nodding his agreement before he was quite aware of himself.

Castiel really was great at singing. His guitar playing was alright, average, nothing special, but his voice was something else entirely. Several lines in, Dean recognised the song as Pokerface, mainly ‘cause of the ridiculous amount of air play it had when radios were playing in public. He’d always found the song kinda trashy and commercial but shit, even this sounded good when Castiel was the one crooning the words as he played his guitar; Dean was mesmerised.

“You’re beautiful, Cas,” he said when Castiel finished. Horror quickly sunk in his chest when he realised he’d said that out loud instead of just thinking it and he looked over at Castiel, waiting for the inevitable headache over such a strong compliment so soon.

But Castiel simply smiled. “I take it you liked it, then,”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said, trying to appear more nonchalant than he really was after just coming across so strong “I guess it wasn’t bad, considering the original,” he grinned.

**~**

Castiel sat with his guitar, looking over at Dean. He found himself strongly resisting the urge to lean over and make out with the gorgeous man who had just called him beautiful. He had half a mind to do just that but he also wasn’t sure he wanted things to get so sexual so fast. It wasn’t that Castiel had any particular aversion to sleeping with whomever you like; he was just inclined to be cautious around Dean; not sure exactly where his boundaries lay in the whole “sleeping with other men” deal.

As he was considering this, he realised Dean had been looking over at him, staring a little, so Castiel looked up to meet his gaze. Dean swallowed and Cas tried hard to ignore the effects of seeing Dean’s Adams apple bob.

“Can I kiss you?” Dean asked, his eye contact unwavering.

Well, that was a surprise. Castiel considered a witty response about how he thought he’d never ask or maybe even a teasing rejection. But no, Dean looked just a little too vulnerable to take that so he settled for a smile and an “of course,” before he settled his guitar down and let Dean come and sit with him.

To his surprise, Dean didn’t sit beside him, but carefully nipped his legs over either side of Castiel’s and rested on his lap. Castiel reached up and traced his fingertips along Dean’s arms that had woven themselves around his neck. Dean shivered ever so slightly and Castiel loved it.

Dean’s eyelids were part way closed as he snuck his head down and ever so lightly pressed his lips up and against Castiel’s. Castiel pulled Dean closer to him by the small of his back and deepened their kiss as he did so; hands’ running along Dean’s back, pulling him closer as the friction between their mouths heated up.

“Cas,” Dean murmured. The feel of his hot breath against Castiel’s lips was delicious, and Castiel found himself pulling Dean closer, desperate for more.

“No, Cas, stop,” Dean pulled his mouth away, his eyes hazy and glazed over, his mouth looking even more divine where it was slightly more pink and puffed from kissing.

“What is it?” Castiel asked, trying to look concerned, because he was, it was just that every instinct his body had was also telling him that the kissing should definitely not have stopped so soon.

“I’ve never _done it_ with a guy before,” Dean whispered, staring intently at Castiel’s lips as he spoke, his cheeks flushing slightly at his admission.

Castiel found himself smiling in a way he could only describe as fond. He was pretty sure Dean hadn’t been with guys before; it was obvious in their every interaction, not to mention how uncomfortable Dean was with the whole thing in public. Dean confessing such an obvious thing was simultaneously slightly hilarious and completely fucking adorable.

“Do you want to have sex with me, Dean?” he asked one eyebrow quirking up involuntarily as he did so.

Dean nodded and swallowed; something Castiel silently wished he would quit doing whilst they weren’t actually kissing.

Figuring it was time to fix that, in answer, Castiel reached up and pulled Dean’s mouth back to his. If their previous kiss had been hot, this one was on fire. The press of Dean’s lips, hard and wet against his own, sent little jolts of pleasure to impossible parts of Castiel’s body. The skin where Dean’s hands touched as they roamed over his chest, his arms, his back, tingled wantonly from his touch.

Before Castiel was quite aware what was happening, they were tumbling to the ground and sprawled flat out on the ridiculously plush rug Castiel now thanked God that he’d been gifted from a relative. He sat carefully on Dean’s legs, curling his feet under Dean’s knees and regarded the trembling but beautiful man between his thighs.

Castiel deftly snaked hands under Dean’s shirt, pulling it off and over his head with Dean’s co-operation. He smiled slyly to himself at what was revealed; Dean’s body really was as good as he’d imagined. He also noticed a small circular tattoo on Dean’s chest and he didn’t know why but hell, he thought that was hot. He leaned down, peppering sweet kisses over Dean’s torso, his hands holding firmly to the other man’s waist. Unable to resist, he worked his mouth up and sucked along Dean’s neck, licking and biting gently, something that elicited moans from Dean that Castiel didn’t think should be legal.

He felt Dean’s hands move around his body and grab his ass and that was it, really, they were having sex, there was no going back.

Dean’s hands fumbled more than Castiel’s did as they undressed each other, but in an unexpectedly short amount of time, with frequent bursts of kissing and hair pulling, Dean and Castiel were lay naked on Castiel’s living room floor, their mouths entwined I a steady dance of intoxicating licking and sucking.

When Dean reached out and took his dick in his hand, Castiel full on gasped before leaning in hungrily to Dean’s mouth, desperate for more of him.

It wasn’t long before Castiel’s hand joined Dean’s; their hands wrapped around each of their dicks, no matter how fast they moved them still not managing quite enough to fill the desperate longing in him for as much of the other man as possible.

Dean was sighing Castiel’s name, louder and more frequently the closer he got to orgasm until, with one final breathless shudder, he whimpered “Cas,” and collapsed over on to Castiel, who himself promptly came at the sheer sight of Dean experiencing such heightened emotions.

**~**

Sometime later, having cleaned up and got dressed back into minimal clothing, Dean found himself lying in Castiel’s bed. The covers were sat loosely over their feet, it was really far too hot for blankets, and Castiel had a lazy arm draped around him, his head nestled between Castiel’s arm and his chest.

Dean considered this kinda post-sex cuddling something you only did, if ever, if a chick had exceptional skills in the bedroom department and you wanted to seal the deal for a second round. He did want to seal the deal for a second round with Castiel, he thought, but Castiel wasn’t a chick, and so Dean rationalised the cuddling as being something he was doing because he was new to men.

“Dean?” Castiel said, Dean looked up to see Castiel’s eyes closed, but his grip around his shoulder firmed ever so slightly, as though he was making sure Dean wasn’t leaving him when he felt movement.

“Yeah, Cas?”

“I like your tattoo,”

Dean smiled. He thought he’d noticed Castiel’s breath hitch slightly when he first clocked it as he’d undressed him.

“You do?”

“Mmmhmm, s’sexy,” Castiel mumbled.

Dean found himself grinning into Castiel’s chest, safely wrapped up in the other man’s arms as he let himself drift off into a rare happy slumber.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean awoke to the sounds of birds outside, something he thought was odd considering he was pretty sure Castiel’s apartment was in the centre of the city. He glanced over to Castiel’s alarm clock at the side of the bed and saw it was 6am; he didn’t have to leave until 8. Sadly, however, the birds outside didn’t sound like they were shutting the fuck up anytime soon and try as he might, he just couldn’t get back to sleep.

When he’d glanced up to Castiel, whose chest he was still lying on and who was still clutching him tightly, he’d seen he was contentedly snoozing away. Dean decided not to ponder the urges he had to trace small circles on to Castiel’s bare chest and instead resolved that he would go and explore Castiel’s kitchen and prepare coffee.

After Castiel had slept through the bird song, Dean was even more impressed that he managed to sleep through the awkward job Dean made of disentangling the two of them; he found himself smiling at the thought as he grabbed the nearest item of clothing to him, Castiel’s t-shirt, and pulled it over his head before tip-toeing out of the room.

Castiel’s kitchen was _super_ tidy, he wasn’t entirely sure he should be touching anything, lest he dirty it. However, the need for caffeine was strong so Dean just measured out the coffee grounds extra carefully instead.

Dean’s eyes lazily scanned the already bright kitchen as the coffee filtered through, noticing several pictures of Castiel dotted around. Two red headed women featured quite frequently, Dean found himself taking note, thinking that they were probably important to Castiel. Then he stopped himself immediately when he realised he was preparing this information for possibly _meeting_ them. Which of course was ridiculous, Dean never met people’s family, especially not when he’d known them properly for two days.

Disgusted at himself, Dean turned to check how the coffee was doing and saw there was more than enough for one mug. He retrieved a mug for himself (white, from a cupboard where he found approximately ten carbon copies of the same mug) before deciding that yes, he should probably make Castiel a mug, too; telling himself that if he had to get up because of the damn birds and go to work, the least Castiel could do was be conscious for it.

He remembered how Castiel had taken his coffee at Bobby’s and added a little milk before taking the two cups back through to the bedroom. He perched lightly on the edge of the bed and was considering exactly how he could wake Castiel when he saw the other man stirring entirely of his own accord.

“Morning sleepy,” he said, surprising himself the level of affection in his voice.

“Good morning,” Castiel mumbled, his voice low and kinda gruff as he pulled himself up so he was sat facing Dean.

“I, uh, made you coffee,” Dean said, passing the cup to the other man, who smiled and nodded his thank you as he took it. Dean silently prayed that he wouldn’t think it was weird that he’d remembered how he’d liked his coffee.

Thankfully, Castiel passed no comment and instead drew the mug close to his lips, before blowing carefully on the hot liquid and closing his eyes as he took a sip. Not that Dean was staring or anything.

Castiel demanded Dean get back in to bed properly when he told him that he didn’t have to leave for over an hour yet. Instead of going back to sleep, Dean ended up half lying, half sitting next to Castiel, his head resting on the other man’s shoulders, coffee in both of their hands.

“Where do you work?” Castiel had asked, and Dean was thankful he couldn’t see his face because he knew his cheeks had flushed a little at the question. Dean worked at a call centre, a particularly crappy one at that, his job was nowhere near as cool as the theatre manager come busker he was cuddled into.

“Call centre in town,” he said, hoping Castiel wouldn’t question more - work was a particularly sore subject for a number of reasons but mainly his asshole boss. When he thought about it, his hatred of his job probably played a big part in why he was so drawn to Castiel at lunch times; the man’s angelic singing voice was such a welcome distraction from the shit he had to face when he went back to work.

Castiel sipped his coffee and made a small appreciative noise at Dean’s answer. “But it’s not what I wanna do forever,” Dean nipped in, before Castiel could ask him anymore, much preferring the chance to talk about his career aspirations than his current career predicament.

And that was how Dean Winchester found himself opening up and revealing to another person for the first time that he dreamed of having his own garage; maybe even a small chain, not that he was greedy.  He explained how several friends of his dad had taught him pretty much everything you’d ever need to know about cars when he was growing up and that due to some damn bad luck; he hadn’t yet found a job where he could work with cars.

Castiel made small empathetic sounds in all the right places and when Dean had finished, he had taken his face in his hands and told him that his garage idea was wonderful and he had no doubt Dean could do it. Dean doggedly tried to stop the butterflies in his stomach that were fluttering because he’d told someone his ambitions and not only had they not shot him down, but they’d believed in him. No, what did Castiel know? He barely even knew him.

Castiel seemed to sense that Dean doubted him, because he kissed him lightly on the lips, before adding, with an unexpected blush “I don’t know exactly how it would transfer to cars, Dean, but from my experience, you’re very good with your hands,”

Dean grinned. Now _that_ was a compliment he could take.

“What about you, Cas? You gonna take that singing talent and do something with it?” he smiled.

“I should take exception to the implication that busking is wasting my talent,” he said, absent mindedly taking one of Dean’s hand in his as he did so, thumb carefully stroking over it.

“Nah Castiel, you know that’s not what I meant,” Dean protested.

“Yes, I do,” Castiel said, and Dean didn’t miss how genuinely fond his smile appeared, “especially as your appreciation of my busking talent is the whole reason you’re sat here right now,” he finished, squeezing Dean’s hand in his own.

“Guess you got me there,” Dean shrugged before, unable to resist the admiring look being shot at him unwaveringly, he leaned over and kissed Castiel gently, but for far longer than was really necessary at ten to seven in the morning.

“I could get used to that,” Castiel mumbled into Dean’s lips as he pulled away, making Dean grin unashamedly.

Dean happily returned Castiel’s gaze, not minding much how forward the comment was when he had such a beautiful guy regarding him so intently; his lips still slick and slightly too pink from kissing him.

“I would like to do something with it, though,” Castiel said, making Dean wrinkle his nose in confusion. “Singing, I mean,” he clarified as Dean saw him note his quizzical look.

“You should, man,” Dean said, and this time it was him who found Castiel’s hand to hold firmly, as though squeezing it would somehow add weight to his convictions. “And this is from someone who doesn’t have time for all that slow bullshit music you sing,” he said, winking cheekily at Castiel.

“I have tried,” Castiel admitted. “It’s why I have a CD ready that you can take, I have hundreds actually, and I’ve sent off even more to various record companies, but no one cares especially for one guy with his guitar,”

Dean wasn’t sure exactly what to say to that, so he squeezed Castiel’s hand again before stroking it gently in what he hoped was a comforting way; giving Castiel the option to change the topic if he wished.

“At this moment my best hopes lie with my sister in New York; she works in consultancy and was recently employed by Universal, the record label,” Castiel looked at Dean, as though to check he knew who he was talking about, which, of course he did, so he nodded his understanding.

“She told me she couldn’t guarantee anything of course, and that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but she said she might be able to put in a good word in the right places,”

Dean nodded, he understood, and despite himself and how wary he knew he should be about the matter, he genuinely believed Castiel could make a living off music. Listening to him play wasn’t quite like listening to anyone else sing; something about the way he softly crooned lyrics, his deep voice steady and just the right amount of husky was _special_. Dean knew that if someone recognised that in Castiel and could capture it, then Cas’ days of busking on the street would be over.

Obviously, he wasn’t going to say all that to Castiel out loud though, figuring he’d probably only just managed to shift the creepy stalker label after their introduction.

So instead, he smiled and said “You can do it, Cas,” before taking Castiel’s hand and pressing a soft kiss to it, hoping that Castiel would somehow understand the hope and faith Dean had in him with the gesture.

**~**

Castiel lay in bed, lazily toying with the idea of going to make another coffee as he waited for Dean to finish in the shower. He had nowhere to be until 1 today, when he was expected in to work for the matinee performance of Hamlet. Dean, however, was due in within the hour, so he’d got ‘shower dibs’, a phrase Castiel was only vaguely familiar with when Dean had claimed it.

Sighing, he’d lain back down in bed and found himself face to face with his t-shirt, the one Dean had claimed as his own when he’d woken up, before tossing aside as he went to shower. Castiel had minded only a little that Dean had thrown it haphazardly because him doing so had also meant Castiel got a chance to admire Dean’s glorious chest as well as his even more glorious tattoo.

Now, faced with the t-shirt, he realised with a small jolt that it smelt exactly like Dean, a scent he’d become happily aware of through sleeping with the man carefully tucked in his arms. He didn’t mean to take the shirt in his hands and hold it delicately to his face, so that he might breathe in the smell more, it had just kind of happened, which meant he was all the more startled when he heard laughter from the door.

“Dude, are you _sniffing_ that shirt?” Dean asked, not bothering to hide how amusing he found the whole situation. Castiel felt his cheeks flush, sadly not entirely due to the fact that Dean was stood at his bedroom door, naked save for a towel loosely wrapped round his midriff and still dripping slightly from his shower.

“I- yes,” he admitted, skulking his head down as he did so, there was no point in lying to Dean when he’d witnessed it.

“You are something else,” Dean told him, chuckling to himself before walking over and kissing Castiel quickly on the top of his head. “And _I_ am gonna be late for work,” he added, quickly gathering the clothes he’d worn the night before from the floor and pulling them on.

“Will your boss not notice that you’re wearing yesterday’s clothes?” Castiel asked, intrigued.

“Nah,” Dean said “I didn’t wear these yesterday anyway, just last night,” he explained with a carefree smile. “Besides, one of the perks of working in a shit hole – no one cares what you wear,” his smile was less care free this time and Castiel realised Dean really mustn’t like where he worked so much if that was the reaction he had to talking about it.

When Dean was dressed, Castiel had pulled him over to the bed and kissed him, his arms tight around Dean’s waist.

“You make quite a dashing call centre worker,” he breathed into their kiss, causing Dean to chuckle lightly.

“I like to think I make a dashing _everything_ ,” Dean countered, before pulling Castiel back to him to kiss him some more.

Finally, after a little strategic hair pulling that he found made Dean moan blissfully, he’d pulled away and glanced to the small alarm clock next to him. 7:58.

“You should go, Dean,” he said, smiling at the other man and wishing he wasn’t leaving so soon.

“I should,” Dean said, kissing him once more quickly, before going to grab his keys, wallet and phone which he must have tossed over the other side of the bed at some point the night before.

It was as Castiel was showing Dean out of the door, ready to close it as Dean began to saunter down the corridor to the stairwell that he realised he hadn’t actually given Dean the CD he’d come round for.

“Dean!” he called out “The CD!”

Dean turned around, grinning at him, but continued to walk down the corridor away from him, only backwards so that he could look at Castiel.

“I’ll get it next time I’m round, Cas!” he said, with a wave and a grin, before ducking into the stairwell, out of Castiel’s sight.

Well, Castiel happily thought, at least that cleared up the murky area of whether or not Dean wanted to see him again.


End file.
